


Sentiments of Home

by kairis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Dreams, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairis/pseuds/kairis
Summary: Eren dreams of returning home to visit his mother, as though there had hardly been a change since that fateful day six years before.





	Sentiments of Home

**Author's Note:**

> contains spoilers for past ≈ chapter 85.
> 
> this is essentially the result of me thinking too hard about Eren after chapter 90.

He was at home. The wooden boards creaked familiarly to him when he shifted his weight slightly, and the smooth wooden grooves rubbed against his bare toes. Everything was how it was supposed to be. Late afternoon sun clearly shone through the opened windows, which let in a gentle breeze of cool air. The hearth was unlit, though a few charred logs of wood remained. It was summertime, nice enough for the windows to be left open and the fire reserved solely for cooking purposes.

His mother was at the sink basin, dressed in a soft white linen blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She had her back to him, but he knew she was busy washing dishes, judging from the sounds of water sloshing around in the sink.

Eren had had this dream before, years ago.

In that instance, his mother had whipped her head around and immediately began scolding him. Her hair had been disheveled and tangled, strands of it slipping wildly out of her loose ponytail. The tangles of hair had messily framed her bruised and scratched face. The words she’d confronted him with had been harsh and stinging, like they were flames shooting from her mouth.

_Why didn’t you listen to me?!_

_I told you not to waste your life, to **value** it!_

_Think of how much you could do if you weren’t planning on getting yourself killed!_

Eren hesitated this time, standing quietly in front of the door leading outside to the front porch. His mother remained completely silent, making no noise aside from the sloshing of water in the sink basin. In a momentary pause in her work, she sighed softly as she glanced at the growing stack of undried dishes piled up on the worktop beside the sink.

Eren at once moved forward, approaching his mother and grabbing hold of a dry dish rag that’d been sitting on the kitchen tabletop. As he came to the worktop, she gave him a quick glance, her dark eyes widening with brief surprise, and then her lips tugged up into an appreciative smile as Eren started to carefully dry off the wet dishes.

“Thank you, Eren,” she murmured to him as she resumed scrubbing the remaining dishes.

Eren nodded in acknowledgement, taking the opportunity to glance at his mother’s face. It was clear of any injuries, just as he’d always remembered it; warm skin, tinged with a golden hue from time spent in the garden, kindly dark eyes, and a broad smile. From the glance he’d seen of himself reflected in the pewter pitcher he’d just wiped dry, he was as he was at present time. His dark hair just barely reached his shoulders, his face tired, eyes with pockets of puffiness underneath them from lack of sleep. But his mother didn’t seem any older than she had been six years ago. She seemed the same as always, in a lighthearted mood, never letting the exhaustion of her job as a mother of two show much at all.

For a little while, all they did was the routine of washing and drying dishes. After some time though, Eren noticed that his mother seemed lost in thought. Her brows were knitted ever so slightly, and her gaze was fixed on the view from the window overlooking the small stretch of paved alleyway between their house and the next row of houses. There wasn’t anything of interest happening outside. All Eren was able to see was the view of one of the neighboring housewives locking her house’s back door before using the alleyway as a shortcut to the next street over.

“Ma...?” Eren asked with hesitation.

His mother snapped out of her thoughts, gently setting down the last item of dishes needing cleaning, a large ceramic bowl with a small chip in its rim.

“Don’t worry about it, Eren,” she said softly. “I was just...thinking, is all.”

His mother wiped her hands dry on her apron.

“Thinking about what?” Eren asked.

Karla rolled down her sleeves to cover her bare arms. “I was just thinking about whether your father will be home in time for dinner tonight. I didn’t buy enough at the market earlier to make dinner for more than you, me, and Mikasa...he said he’d be back today, but he never said when he’ll be back.”

Eren tried to not drop the bowl with surprise. It was his mother’s favorite bowl, a wedding present from her parents, and it had an intricate pattern of beautiful roses painted in curling blue-green lines. It’d already suffered from being dropped (by him) at least once before, hence the chip in its rim.

“Ma...don’t you know about what happened with Papa?” Eren asked slowly, setting down the bowl. A few water droplets slid down into its center, collecting in a tiny pool.  
Karla sighed and smiled bittersweetly. “...yes...I guess it’s just wishful thinking on my part that I forgot…”

The look in his mother’s eyes was wistful, and her lips had sagged downwards as if her smile had been wiped away. She glanced at the bowl Eren had set down, her eyes briefly looking over the delicate designs on it.

“It’s just…crazy to believe what sort of things no one knew about him,” Karla murmured, though it was quiet enough that Eren recognized she was speaking only to herself.

“Yeah, it is,” Eren agreed, nodding his head.

They stayed silent as they finished up the task of storing away all of the dried dishes. Only the soft thuds of plates and bowls being set down upon shelving broke the silence as they worked. The last of the dishes to put away, that favorite ceramic bowl, was at first attempted by Karla to be put safely stored at the very top of the kitchen shelving, just past the height at which her arms could reach. Eren had seen her do this before so many times when he was younger, when he couldn’t do a thing to help his mother. Usually, she would manage to barely place the bowl at the edge of the shelf by stretching her arms and standing at the tips of her toes, from where she could easily just carefully push the bowl back to its place. But now…

“Ma, let me do it,” Eren interrupted.

Karla rested the heels of her feet back down onto the floor, and Eren realized then that she only one of her worn leather house slippers, shown by how the hem of her skirt had been slightly lifted to reveal her feet. He quickly pushed the thought aside in his mind as his mother handed him the bowl. With ease, he carefully placed the bowl at the top of the shelf. He turned back to see his mother watching in bemusement, her face highlighted with a fond smile.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” she said. “My little boy is taller than me now.”

He wasn’t really much taller than her now, but that didn’t matter much, did it? She approached him, and she used her fingertips to brush the stray strands of his bangs out of his eyes, as if he was once again a small child who constantly needed to be tidied up. Unlike how he’d been as a child, though, this time Eren let his mother fix his hair without a struggle. It’d been six long years since he’d seen her last, since he’d felt her warmth and love, and he was going to savor it as long as he could.

His mother’s eyes skirted over the sewn wings of freedom on the breast pocket of uniform’s jacket. She pulled him into a close hug, wrapping her arms around Eren’s shoulders. Eren buried his head down into the crook of Karla’s neck, breathing in her scent – faintly floral, hints of earthiness, all the scents that reminded him of his home.

“I’m so glad you’ve come back to visit,” she whispered. Her voice was starting to waver. “Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“Of course I came back,” Eren quietly said back. “How could I not come back?”

“What you do is so dangerous,” Karla said. She squeezed him, hugging him tighter. “I’m always so worried for you and Mikasa. All I want is for you to be safe and sound.”

“You don’t need to worry about us,” Eren said. His mother shuddered slightly, shaking for a moment as she pulled away from him.

“Oh, but I’m your mother, Eren,” Karla said. Tears threatened to spill over the rims of her eyes. “I’ll always be worrying about you.”

His mother blinked, and she dabbed at her eyes with one of her sleeves. She gave Eren a warm smile, and she reached one of her hands to hold the pin of his bolo tie between her fingers. She rubbed her thumb over the engraved Survey Corps emblem and returned her gaze to Eren.

“I’m so proud of you, dear,” Karla whispered. As she let go of the pin, it fell back to rest on Eren’s chest. “So, _so_ , proud of you.”

Eren was taken aback. He felt his face flushing red, burning hot with a mixture of embarrassment and humbleness. The pin laying on his chest felt weighty and heavy. “You’re proud of me?”

“Very proud of you,” his mother said, nodding. “You’ve been so brave, so strong…that’s all I could have ever wanted my son to be.”

“But, Ma…” Eren stammered out. His voice broke sharply as he tried to speak. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t even know what’s right or wrong anymore.”

The smile had fallen from his mother’s face, but the warmth of her expression stayed. She took hold of one of his hands, locking their fingers together and squeezing tightly.

“Talk to me,” she murmured. She gave another squeeze to his hand, her grip comforting yet firm.

There was a bitterness deep inside Eren that made him wish earnestly that the biggest problems of his life could still be fixed with his mother’s gentle words and encouragement, but he knew better than to waste his thoughts on such a childish desire. His mother may have been able to quell even the worst of his tantrums and fits as a child, but he doubted she could settle the looming problem he’d seen in his future. Wars were simply not fought and won using words.

Eren gritted his teeth, tension making his arms shake as he stood. Karla shushed him softly, giving his hand another squeeze before she pulled him into another embrace. With one hand, she ran her fingers through his hair, combing over the dark locks in a soothing motion.

“I don’t know if what I’m doing is right,” Eren choked out. He buried his head against the crook of her neck, breathing in that familiar homey scent again. His eyes were shut, but he could feel the hot tears leaking out, trailing down his cheeks. “People are going to have to die, and I just don’t think that’s how this has to end, or even if that’d _be_ the end. I want _end_ this conflict, not continue it.”

“Shhh…” Karla shushed him again as he gasped for a shaky breath. “Eren, you’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He knew that his mother’s words couldn’t possibly be the absolute truth, but hearing her voice calm and collected against his racing thoughts was soothing. She didn’t know as much as he did, didn’t know the full extent of the responsibility that weighed down on his shoulders, and he knew that she would never be able to fully grasp the situation at hand, yet the gentleness of Karla’s voice was enough to slow down his mind, to calm the shaking in his arms. He leaned into her, head nestled against her neck and trying to keep from making a sound as he let tears flow freely for the first time in a long, long time. As he shuddered against his mother, his breath hitched.

“I don’t know what to do,” Eren mumbled. The tears had finally started to slow down, only a few trickling down. His mother’s shirt collar was wet with his tears now, but she was still much more focused on her son, rubbing smooth circles on his back. “I don’t know how we can be right if we’re becoming the enemies of mankind.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Karla said softly. “You’ve come so far, and I know you can go on just a little more. You have so many people with you who can help, who can be there for you. It will work out in the end.”

Something in the back of Eren’s mind wanted to burst out, to tell his mother that this was a hopeless situation. That sometimes it felt like he couldn’t hold on any longer, that no matter how many titans were killed, no matter how many spies were rooted out, no matter how many enemies were eliminated, that this situation they were in was so damned terrible, that they themselves were the plague of humanity. The tender sound of his mother’s voice, however, was overwhelming that impulse. To be in her arms was enough for now.

Eren tried his best to keep himself as composed as possible, but he found himself to be a shuddering mess of tears. His body felt limp as he leaned against his mother for support, and he thought about how pathetic he must look, clinging to his mother like a child. If the rest of his people had seen him like this, Eren Jaeger, the savior of humanity, sobbing and clinging to his mother…

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Karla rubbing soothing circles into Eren’s back and shushing him gently as he choked out sobs. But eventually his emotions seemed to settle down, even if they still were still lingering at the fringes of his mind. Karla gave him a final squeezing hug before they pulled apart.

“I’ll always love you, Eren,” she said quietly. “No matter what you do, I promise I’ll always love you.”

“I love you too, Ma,” Eren whispered. He rubbed at his eyes with his jacket sleeve, making the skin red.

“Thanks, Ma,” Eren said quietly as they pulled away from each other. He felt his lips curving upwards into a small smile.

“You don’t have to thank me,” his mother said softly. She squeezed his hand briefly before letting it go. “Now...let’s get started on dinner, shall we?”

Eren wasn’t sure what the meal was actually supposed to be of, but he nodded along to what his mother said. Under her instruction, Eren set the table for three, and brought out ingredients to cook with, fragrant dried herbs, lumpy brown potatoes dusted with dirt, fresh vegetables. His mother surveyed the assortment of ingredients on the worktop before her, her lips pursed in thought.

“Do we not have any rosemary left?” Karla finally asked.

“Uh, I guess not,” Eren answered. He wasn’t entirely sure about how rosemary looked, but he’d taken out the entirety of the usual cooking herbs for his mother.

“Alright, I’ll just have to get some from the garden then,” Karla said with a shrug.

She moved to the back door, to exit into their tiny yard space, but she hesitated, resting her hand on the door knob.

“Eren, have you seen my other shoe?” his mother asked. She laughed softly. “This is ridiculous, but I just realized I have been walking around today with only one shoe on.”

Eren recalled. The shoe was in his bag at the military barracks in Shiganshina, buried between spare clothes and his field notebook. He’d picked it up months ago on the return from Shiganshina to Trost, not wanting to leave behind the only piece of his mother he had left.

“It’s with my things, I think,” Eren said.

Karla didn’t bat an eye at the idea of her son holding onto her shoe. She merely laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Well then, go and fetch it for me, okay?” She gave him a slight smile, slight but full of warmth. “I can’t walk around outside with only one shoe on.”

Eren laughed briefly along with his mother, as he turned to leave for his bag, and that was it.

*

He woke up surrounded in darkness, wrapped in a thin and scratchy wool blanket, laying atop the firm mattress of a military grade bunk bed. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Eren saw that there was pale moonlight flowing into the room from a window, lightly highlighting his surroundings. For a few moments, he laid in the thick silence, listening to the deep breathing of his sleeping comrades while trying to recollect his memories of the dream he’d just had. As the bits and pieces of the dream flooded back into his mind, Eren quietly slipped out of bed and padded towards the entrance to the room, where his knapsack was sitting by the doorframe. He shouldered the bag and left the room, opening the door slowly and carefully so as to not wake anyone with creaking door hinges.

In the washroom just down the hall from the men’s bunkroom, Eren splashed icy water on his face and used his fingers to comb through his disheveled hair. He pulled out his day clothes and shoes from his bag, dressed himself, and then finally he pulled out the single flat leather shoe belonging to his mother. The leather was cracked and dry, weathered from exposure to the elements for five years, but the shoe still held its form for the most part.

Shouldering his bag again, Eren breathed deeply and sighed before leaving the washroom, clutching the shoe tightly in hand.

He was stopped in the canteen by Levi, who seemed to always be awake whenever it was sensible to be tucked into bed and sleeping.

“Where the hell are you going?” Levi asked dully. Steam from his cup of tea wafted before him. He eyed the shoe in Eren’s hand with mild disgust, but he seemed most bothered by the fact that Eren was out of bed at this time.

“I’ve got something I need to do,” Eren explained.

Levi narrowed his eyes, looking at Eren with (rightful) suspicion. “Don’t do anything stupid, kid. We’re going back to the interior tomorrow.”

“Right, I know that.” Eren nodded. “I’ll be back before you know it, sir.”

Levi acknowledged him with a gruff “hmph”, taking in a long sip of hot tea as Eren slipped into the kitchen. In the dimly lit kitchen, Eren fumbled around in cupboards in search for wherever the herbs were stored. He wasn’t overly familiar with the kitchen of these barracks, but after searching through the shelves of dried cooking ingredients, he managed to find sprigs of rosemary. He recognized it by the aromatic fragrance, reminding him of his mother’s cooking and the warmth of his home. He pocketed a few of the fresher branches of the rosemary, leaving behind the more brittle and dried ones in the cupboard. After giving a quick salute to Levi as he left the dining hall, Eren exited the barracks onto the street.

The night air was crisp and fresh against his skin, cool and calming in contrast with the slightly stuffy atmosphere of the barracks. Though he’d never spent much time on the streets after night had fallen (surely it was nearing four in the morning by now), Eren could tell the streetscape wasn’t quite what it would’ve been over six years ago.

The rebuilding of Shiganshina had started months ago, and former residents had flocked back to the city, but it was a lengthy process. Rubble still littered areas of the streets, many homes still lay in ruins, and many more families had nothing but makeshift shelters where their homes once stood.

But the city wasn’t unrecognizable, at least not to Eren, who’d spent his childhood roaming the streets, playing with Armin and Mikasa, generally seeking some form of mischief to get into. There may be chunks of the wall and mountains of rubble strewn throughout the streets in some parts, but that wasn’t enough to stop him. Not when it came to returning something this important.

His feet led him throughout the narrow streets of the city, guiding him thoughtlessly back to his home. He passed by places he was familiar with, by the homes of people he’d visited with his father for work, past the squares and small parks dotted around the city, even making his way past the tenement block that Armin and his family had lived in. Most of the buildings were still ruined, smashed by chunks of the wall or by the hands of ravenous titans, but some were in the process of being rebuilt. There were half finished walls and new timber frames on some homes, and some of the streets had been partially cleared of rubble.

Eren felt his heart thudding loudly as he found himself at the corner of his street, where he’d had dreams of returning to for years. The street was deserted entirely, empty and quiet. He could never find himself accustomed to the looming figure of his home, the massive chunk of the wall jutting out of the crushed timber and stone walls. Once he’d reached the front of the house, he dropped down to kneel at the rubble.

He tried to ignore the memories he had of his mother, crushed under the weight of the debris, begging him and Mikasa to run. Instead, he tried to fill his mind with the memory of his dream, the warmth of his home and his mother’s gentle affection.

Several moments passed before he felt ready, the image of his mother laughing softly and asking for her shoe back stubbornly sticking in his mind. He rubbed the worn leather material of the shoe with his thumb for a moment, a bit tentative to relinquish the last remains of his mother. But her voice asking for the shoe again flooded his mind, and his gently set it down before the ruins of his home. He brought out the rosemary springs from his pocket. Briefly, he took a whiff of the fragrance, before he set the herbs down too, right on top of the shoes.

“I’ll come home again soon,” Eren whispered. His voice was just barely audible, but he knew that wherever his mother happened to be, she’d be able to hear him. “I promise.”


End file.
